


Good Puppy, Bad Kitty

by sparxwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Blowjobs, Brief allusions to past underage, Comeplay, D/s, Feeding Kink, Hair Pulling, Incest, M/M, Multi, Petplay, Rimming, Scratching, Sex Toys, collaring, foodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puppies, Sam has discovered, are easy. They’re easy to understand, eager to please, trainable, and generally happy provided they’re well-fed and provided with attention and walkies. Kittens, on the other hand – they’re a fucking nightmare. (Or, a day in the life of the exasperated owner of a puppy called Dee and a kitten called Cas.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Puppy, Bad Kitty

**Author's Note:**

> Cas’s [tail](http://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/6358574/il_fullxfull.253912537.jpg) (except with a little more black) and claws (with fur-pattern instead of bobbles). Dee’s [tail](http://www.twistedpig.co.uk/ekmps/shops/hartus25/images/dog-tail-buttplug-small-1157-p.jpg) (but brown).

Puppies, Sam has discovered, are easy. They’re easy to understand, eager to please, trainable, and generally happy provided they’re well-fed and provided with attention and walkies.

Take Dee – he’s been Sam’s puppy, since… well. Formally, for five years now, going on six, but in reality he’s been Sam’s ever since Sam turned sixteen and realised big brother got all hot and bothered when he left his towel a little too low-slung on his hips after the shower.

 And currently, he’s currently curled up in the living room on his bed, in front of the fire. As Sam watches from his seat on the couch, Dee huffs out a soft breath, one leg twitching as he dreams. It’s a beautiful sight; Dee, perfectly happy and peaceful, little puppy belly still rounded from his latest meal. Sam likes him like that, soft and happy and full and sleepy. His pretty little puppy.

Kittens, on the other hand – they’re a fucking nightmare.

“Cas?” calls Sam, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the beautiful sight stretched out in front of the hearth and, unsurprisingly, finds the lounge devoid of kitten. Unlike puppies, kittens don’t stay where they’re told, unless provided with very good reasons to do so (at which point, Sam thinks, it becomes a case of bribery rather than actual obedience, so it’s sort of a moot point). Cas had the unfortunate habit of wandering, especially when Sam’s attention is elsewhere, like stuck in a book. God only knows how long he’s been gone now, and what he’s got up to.

Sighing, Sam puts his book down on the coffee table, dog-earing the page he’s on so he can find his place. A quick search of the hallway and bedroom of their flat shows, unsurprisingly, a significant absence of kitten, as does the half-hearted peek inside the bathroom and the coat closet. Although he’s found Cas all over the flat at one point or another – on one memorable occasion, actually _on top of_ the wardrobe, and Sam still has no fucking idea how he got up there without killing himself or breaking the wardrobe – there’s really only one place Cas goes when he manages to evade Sam’s watchful eye.

As expected, Sam finds Cas in the kitchen. On the table, to be precise, curled up with his head on his hands, the silver claws extending from the rings on the tips of his fingers making slight dents in the wood. Sam feels like he should shout at him for that, but then Cas catches sight of him and purrs, a deep, rumbling sound from low in his chest. He shifts his hips, midnight black tail dragging across the table behind him, and rolls over onto his back to stretch languidly across the oak table.

“Little exhibitionist,” mutters Sam, because he _knows_ that’s why Cas chooses this spot every time – they’re only on the third floor, and the table’s right near the window that overlooks the street, in view of anyone with good eyesight and a determination to peep into other people’s business. Although he looks normal enough, messy black hair with dark velvet ears peeking through the tangles and wide, baby-blue eyes that are innocent to the point of angelic, at heart he’s a filthy little devil.

Cas just purrs louder, back arching and clawed hands batting lazily at the air. The sight of him, stretched out on the table and wriggling gently, cock flushed pink and half-hard between his legs, makes Sam want to forget his annoyance and pet the needy little thing, rub and stroke his belly and hair until he’s hard and mewling, jerk him off right there on the table – but no. They’re his pets, and as their owner Sam had certain responsibilities. Training them right, teaching them to behave, is one of them.

“Off the table, Cas,” he says tiredly, shaking his head as he heads over to the fridge. There’s some scraps in there, a plate of shredded chicken pieces they didn’t manage last night, and he’s fairly sure Dee’ll be hungry when he wakes up soon. He finds it, in amongst the mess of unlabelled containers, half-eaten takeaway, and various bottles and tins and vegetables.

When he turns around, plate in hand, Cas is still on the table.

“Off!” he snaps, frowning, walking over the table and curling two fingers through Cas’s collar – black leather, matching the pads on his knees to stop them from getting scuffed and raw. A sharp tug, and Castiel hisses, rolling over onto his stomach and reluctantly slipping off the table, kneeling by Sam’s feet and scowling up at him.

Cats. Honestly. Sam doesn’t know what he was thinking when he got one.

“C’mon, furry idjit,” he mumbles affectionately, shaking his head and heading back to the lounge. Now Cas knows he’s been caught, he’ll follow – probably. He’s had Cas for six months, now, give or take, and while he loves his little kitten to death, he’s an absolute handful sometimes, and Sam’s still not sure exactly what’s going through his head at any given moment.

Sure enough, Cas paces easily on hands and knees next to him, still making disgruntled noises under his breath. Sam’s fairly sure he’s only going to get more annoyed when he finds out what Sam has planned as a punishment – as a reminder of the fact that Cas isn’t a stray any more, that he has an owner, and there are expectations about behaviour that come along with that – but really, he’s looking forward to that. Castiel in a mood is always beautiful, just that little bit more feral and inhuman than he usually is, contained grace and power with an edge of danger to it.

Sam loves watching Dee get fucked by Cas when the kitten’s having a tantrum.

Unsurprisingly, Cas claims a spot on the couch as soon as Sam enters the room, brushing up against his legs as he passes and takes the spot recently vacated by Sam, probably still warm with his body heat. Usually, Sam would sigh and tell him that kittens weren’t allowed on the sofa unless they were invited up, would tug on the collar until Cas slid off the leather seats and crawled over to steal Dee’s bed instead. But, right now, he needs Cas on the couch anyways, so it’s a moot point.

He heads over to the coffee table in the middle of the room, to the box underneath it that he usually hides when they’ve got visitors over. Opening it up, he rifles through the mess of toys and collars and handcuffs inside, all immaculately cared for but messily packed, until he finds what he’s looking for – a small felt pouch, and some lube.

Cas looks up, yawning widely and making a curious noise when Sam comes to sit next to him, craning his head forward to sniff at the objects in Sam’s hand. It doesn’t take much manoeuvring  to get him sprawled across Sam’s lap, ass up, rocking his hips in slow, absent motions to drag his now fully hard across Sam’s legs. A sharp slap to his ass puts paid to that, making his tail twitch between his legs and dragging a sharp mewl from Cas’s lips – although whether it’s a noise of objection, or a request for more, is anyone’s guess.

“Shh, shh. Behave,” chides Sam gently, shaking his head and petting the hollow of Castiel’s back, where his spine meets his ass, until the kitten’s wriggling reluctantly subsides. “Good boy,” he murmurs, because positive reinforcement is important, even during a punishment, before tugging gently on Cas’s tail until the tight clench of his hole gives way and the small, egg-like plug keeping his tail attached pops out of him with a wet noise.

Cas freezes beneath him, a low, uncertain noise building in his throat – is this the end of the scene? Does Sam want to talk to him about something? Has he gone too far in his misbehaving? Far, concern, guilt runs across his face, and Sam, seeing the conflicted emotions, is quick to soothe him. “Shh, shh,” he murmurs, petting at the reddened furl of Cas’s hole, slipping the tip of his thumb inside. Cas opens easily for him, damp and clenching and greedy, and he smiles as he feels Cas relax against him again. “That’s a good boy. Easy now.”

When Cas is no longer tightly wound against him, but purring softly, hips rising a little to seek out more of Sam’s fingers, Sam pulls away. The kitten on his lap makes a noise of objection, but Sam hushes him quickly, reaching instead of the bag and the lube he’d left on the sofa whilst comforting his kitten. Cas quiets at the sight, blinking lazily and tracking the movements of Sam’s hand as he tips the contents of the bag into his palm.

It’s a plastic egg, and a remote control – or at least, what looks like a plastic egg. Cas shivers a little with excitement, hips hiking up even higher, presenting himself for Sam’s admiration and pleasure. Sure enough, Sam smiles indulgently at him, reaching for the lube and smearing a generous helping of it all over the not-quite-spherical object, before pressing it against Cas’s hole. The kitten’s still open from having the tail in and it slides in with only the slightest resistance, Cas’s hole stretching obscenely around the bulk of it before swallowing it greedily inside, light blue plastic disappearing inside the clenched furl of muscle. The kitten lets out a low, definitely un-kitten-like groan.

And then, much to Cas’s consternation, he slips the tail back in and pushes Cas off his lap.

Cas sits on the floor for a second, eyes narrowed up at his master, wondering why Sam isn’t touching him, even if he isn’t fucking him – and then his whole body jerks, eyes widening and lips parting, when Sam thumbs at a button on the remote and the thing inside of him starts vibrating. It’s pressed up against the tip of his tail plug, which only amplifies the vibrations, spreading them further. His cock jumps at the sensation, a sudden pulse of precome running down his shaft and dripping onto the carpet as he moves his hips in slow, luxurious circles that make the egg press up against new, exciting places, eyes half-lidded and lazy with pleasure.

It takes everything Sam has not to lean down there and then, pick Cas up onto his lap again and stroke him off until he comes messy and mewling all over Sam and the sofa. But bad kittens have to be punished.

“No,” he says, when Cas lets out a pleading meow, rolling over onto his stomach to present his dripping cock, flushed red and curved hard and inviting against his stomach. “Oh no you don’t. Kittens who decide to ignore their masters and go sleep on the kitchen table when they _know_ they’re not supposed to do that do not get pettings and cock rubs.” He raises an eyebrow at Cas, who’s face goes from sweetly appealing to haughtily furious in under a second, and hisses violently at him.

The noise wakes Dee up, the puppy’s head shooting up with a soft whimper of confusion as he looks around for the source of the noise, relaxing a little when he realises it’s only Cas being fussy, as usual. He takes a second to blink the sleep from his eyes, stretching his arms out in front of him and bowing his back until his ass is in the air as a wake-up stretch, before he pads lazily over to Sam, rubber tail wagging happily as he moves.

Whereas Cas’s accessories are black, matching his hair, Dee’s are brown, well-worn where Cas’s are still relatively shiny-new. The thick brown collar around his neck is scratched and scarred, but Dee likes it like that, likes that his kneepads are scuffed and that there’s a slight bald patch on one of his floppy ears where Cas had bit it the first time they’d met as pets. He likes the history it gives them, the sense of familiarity and dedication, the way they’re comfortingly moulded to him.

All his sleepiness disappears when he sees Cas on his back, batting unhappily at the air. Six months they’ve been at this now – not continuously, admittedly, but with regular sessions of at least a few hours most weekends, and some during the week when they can fit it around work and university and the like – and Dee _still_ hasn’t realised that Cas does _not_ appreciate his enthusiasm.

Therefore, no one is surprised that Dee starts panting almost immediately, eyes wide with enthusiasm and tail wagging even more frantically. Just as no one (other than Dee himself) is surprised that, when he lowers his head to give Cas an enthusiastic good-mid-afternoon lick to his face, he gets claws scraped across his cheek instead.

He leans back with a whine of confusion, hurt in his eyes belied by the way his cock has perked up just the slightest bit between his legs, head dipped low and submissive as the excited tail motions taper slowly off. Cas hisses at him, too, nose in the air, before mewling and shuddering again when a slight shift of his hips jams the egg up against his prostate. It’s still vibrating, almost painfully good, but not good enough – unlike Dee, Cas’s never quite managed to come purely from something up his ass other than on a few very special occasions, and the bright bursts of pleasure the toy’s bringing him are only intensified by the frustrating knowledge that they’re not going to be enough to bring him over the edge.

“Aww, c’mere,” says Sam, holding out a sympathetic hand and patting the edge of the sofa. “Is the kitty being mean to you? Is he? Is he being a mean kitty?”  
Dee whines again, eyes darting between Sam, and Cas, who’s lying at Sam’s feet, before letting out a low huff of frustration. All he wants to do is say hello to Cas. Is that really such a bad thing?

This time, he approaches the kitten slowly, head down and stretched out meekly, baring his throat as an apology and a panting softly around his lolling tongue. Cas eyes him suspiciously, squirming a little at another pulse of vibrations from the egg nestled deep inside of him, another mewl wrung from his throat involuntarily. The noise makes Dee shiver a little, tail wagging harder as he crawls forward with his chin to the floor, until he’s close enough to touch Cas.

There’s a moment of teetering silence where it could go either way, Sam leaning forward to watch his two pets with rapt fascination in his eyes.

And then Dee’s lunging forward, mouth wide and grinning, tongue lapping at any inch of Cas he can reach. Thighs, stomach, hip, chest… he’s not fussy, just enthusiastic, eager to prove his adoration for Cas who is, for once, not attempting to claw at him or bat him away. Sam knows he should be separating them – this is a punishment for Cas, after all, and he’s got other things planned for Dee right now – but he can’t quite manage to make himself move. It’s rare for his pets to be getting on this well, after all, and it seems a shame to pull them apart _just_ yet. He can watch for a while later.

It’s not long before the combination of Dee’s indiscriminate licking and Cas’s helpless thrusts upwards whenever Dee’s mouth so much as ghosts over his dick ends with Dee’s mouth covering Cas’s cock, mouthing hungrily at it and drooling all over the poor kitten’s stomach and thighs in his eagerness. Cas manages to stay silent at first, but his quiet quickly collapses in on itself and gives what to whimpering groans of need, hips rolling up and down to drive his dick through the mess of spit and tongue Dee’s making, and to grind himself onto his tail plug and the egg still buzzing inside of him.

Reluctantly, Sam intervenes. It’s not exactly a punishment if Cas gets to come too soon, after all. With a sigh, he gets up and reaches over to where his two silly babies are rolling around on the floor together, catching Dee by his collar and hauling him off the squirming kitten. Dee whines helplessly in short, breathless bursts, tongue lolling and drool running from the corners of his mouth. His own dick’s filled out from the excitement of licking Cas’s, heavy and red between his legs, bobbing up and down as he wriggles in Sam’s hold before reluctantly allowing his owner to haul him up onto the sofa and away from Cas.

On the floor, Cas makes a high, thin noise of unhappiness, one which quickly turns into a hiss of frustration when he realises the mouth isn’t coming back and the egg is _still_ vibrating inside him, making his nerve endings prickle with something over-sensitised and vibration-numbed that’s close to pain. The noise makes Dee whine from where he’s flopped down onto the sofa next to Sam, head in his owner’s lap, eyes flicking to where Cas is shaking a little on the floor, but he doesn’t try to jump off or get to him.

Like Sam said. Dogs are easy.

Pointedly looking away from Cas – no mean feat, considering he’s rolled over onto his stomach and is now grinding against the carpet with slow, needy shoves of his hips against the rough fibres of it, mewling with every push – Sam reaches over and picks up the plate of scraps from where he’d left them on the coffee table. Instantly, Dee perks up; food is, Sam has found, a guaranteed way to his puppy’s heart.

“Who’s been a good boy?” he asks softly, putting the plate on his lap and smiling as Dee’s eyes track its progress, drool running from the corner of his mouth again at the prospect of _food_. “Is it you? Is it you? Yes I think it is!” He scratches behind Dee’s ears with one absent hand, loving the way his puppy leans up into the motion, pushing his scalp against Sam’s fingernails, and picks up a small strip of cold chicken with the other, holding it out to Dee.

Dee is not a neat eater. He _is_ careful with his teeth, after the one time he accidentally bit Sam whilst Sam was hand-feeding him, and had ended up taking a freezing cold shower as punishment, but lips and tongue and spit are free game. By the time Dee’s licked every morsel of chicken taste off Sam’s fingers, they’re spit-slick and shiny, and even Cas is peering over at them with curious jealousy. Sam smiles, and picks up another piece, which Dee devours with just as much enthusiasm, hips rubbing slow circles in the air as Sam presses another piece to his lips, precome dripping thick and wet from the tip of it.

“Such a good boy, eating all your din-dins, yes you are,” murmurs Sam softly, holding out a piece of ham, which Dee takes from his fingers again and swallows almost whole. He can’t give Dee too much, he knows, or his puppy will be sick – as much as they both love this, feeding Dee up until his stomach’s taut and rounded, perfect little puppy belly, Sam’s already hand-fed him earlier today, and there’s only so much Dee can take. “Such a good boy for me.” He holds out a final folded slice of ham, in his palm, keeping his fingers out the way in case Dee’s just a little _too_ enthusiastic when he practically inhales it.

Dee makes a soft, whining noise when he realises there’s going to be no more food, licking hopefully at Sam’s palm and fingers, even moving on to his wrist in desperation, but Sam stays firm. “No,” he says, shaking his head and tapping Dee gently on the nose. “That’s all for you, for now.”

When Dee continues to look at him with hurt puppy eyes, he sighs, trailing fingers over Dee’s ribs until he can slip a hand underneath Dee to rub at his stomach. The skin there is warm and firm, just a little give beneath his fingers when he digs them in, and Dee practically _sobs_ against his thigh, where his head is rested. Sam feels his cock twitch, the head of it pressed a little against his hand, and grins.

“C’mon, li’l pup,” he says cheerfully, standing up and stretching, stepping over Cas to crouch on the floor between the coffee table and the fireplace, the fire in it dying down to embers. He pats the floor, and Dee scrambles off the couch easily, eager to please as ever. He knocks Cas over in his scramble to kneel in front of Sam – the kitten had been on his side, one leg bent up into the air, bent nearly double and licking as best he could reach at cock in a hopeless attempt to find enough stimulation to come. He hisses angrily when Dee manages to land a hand on his arm, a clumsy knee nearly into his stomach, and rolls onto his front, scowling lazily.

Dee doesn’t even notice. He’s too busy rolling over onto his back at Sam’s command, head in his Master’s lap, panting noisily in delight as Sam’s fingers rub back and forth across his stomach. Sam’s never understood his puppy’s obsession with stomach rubs, really, but he’s more than happy to indulge – the soft glide of Dee’s skin under his fingers, the occasional scratch of wiry hair when he dips his hand too low, is no hardship to him.

“Who’s the best little puppy in the world, who is it, is it you, yes it is!” mumbles Sam, a string of nonsense in a baby-voice that sends Dee into a frenzy of wriggling and whimpering. He looks almost painfully excited, cock hard and leaking precome that’s puddling in dip of his belly button. Sam reaches out, dips a finger in it, presses the finger to Dee’s lips, and Dee sucks the finger in almost desperately.

Sam grins.

“Cas!” he calls softly, and his kitten looks up from where he’s determinedly attempting to shred the carpet in a fit of rage, back arching uncontrollably every so often when the vibrations become too much. Sam licks his lips at the sight, and then uses the hand not in Dee’s mouth to pat his puppy’s stomach. “You want a treat?”

Cats will not, under any circumstances, do as they’re told. But they will, on occasion, come when called if they’re interested in what you’re offering. Cas pads lazily across the carpet, pausing halfway to stretch with his arms out in front of him, spine curving in a way that Sam’s fairly sure shouldn’t be possible. Then he’s at Dee’s side, claws kneading at the puppy’s skin – not quite as hard as he had been with the carpet, thankfully. Dee loves this, the sharp sting of pain from Cas’s claws or teeth, but none of them are keen on drawing more blood than forms in beads around the occasional deeper-than-intended graze.

Under the attentions of Sam’s hand on his stomach, and Cas’s claws drawing red lines down his ribs, Dee keens, the sound morphing into something like a soft howl as he starts trembling, need written in every line of his body. It amuses Sam that Cas has had the egg in for nearly twenty minutes now, and is still in control of himself, whereas a few minutes of belly rubs has Dee losing control. “Shh,” he soothes, patting Dee’s stomach one last time before reaching down to pull his legs open. “Gonna fill you up nicely, puppy, just you watch.”

Dee’s legs fall open easily under Sam’s touch, hips angling up a little in anticipation. He whimpers when Sam pulls out his tail, holding it still for a second when he’s stretched around the widest point of the rounded plug and smiling as he feels it twitching in his hand as Dee’s hole clenches helplessly around it. “Needy little thing,” he teases, and Cas grins, settling easily between Dee’s legs after a final rake of claws down his side. He sets to biting bruises into Dee’s hips and thighs, eyes flicking up every so often to check on Sam – he’s not allowed inside the puppy until Master’s got his cock in Dee’s mouth, or until Master gives him permission, he knows that. Usually, he ignores Master’s rules, but this one is important; if he breaks it, he doesn’t get to fuck Dee.

This is one rule he never breaks.

With every press of Cas’s teeth into his skin, Dee’s entire body jolts, mouth open and gasping for breath as he struggles with the sheer sensation of it. Sam smiles gently, drags a soft hand through his hair as he unbuttons his pants and eases them down off his hips a little, along with his boxers. His cock hangs, thick and heavy, out of the V his zip makes, the head of it right next to Dee’s cheek where he’s still squirming with his head in Sam’s lap. Sam’s only half hard at the moment, but that’s okay – he knows from experience just how quickly Dee’s wonderful mouth can make him go from zero to sixty.

“Dee,” he murmurs, tugging a little on his puppy’s hair, and then harder when Dee ignores him in favour of concentrating on Cas’s mouth on his legs. “Dee!” Dee lets out a sharp, alarmed noise when Sam tugs sharply on his hair, one that quickly fades off into a noise of contented arousal. When he notices Sam’s cock, though, still a little soft and so temptingly close to his mouth, he perks up with a whine, tongue hanging out to lick gently at the silky skin.

Sam groans, head tilted back and hand fisted tight in Dee’s hair as he simply enjoys the sensation of the rough-tongued, messy lapping at his cock, Dee paying particular attention to the head of it, coaxing it to harden and swell under his tongue. It takes everything Sam has not to just twist his head around with the grip in his hair, push into his mouth and fuck his face until neither of them can breathe properly, but he manages it, lets Dee keep licking and drooling on him until he’s fully hard and leaking against his puppy’s cheek.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, pulling Dee’s head back a little and glancing down at Cas, who’s practically trembling with need, cock an angry-looking red and impossibly hard where he’s gone back to rutting against the carpet with sharp little mewls. He takes a moment to admire the sight laid out before him – the long line of Dee’s freckled body laid out on the floor, Cas’s jittery, helpless arousal – and then tugs on Dee’s hair again. “Suck.”

Dee’s a good boy, and does as his Master commands. Sam can’t help the noise that’s more of a shout than a moan that leaves his throat when Dee’s lips seal around the head of his cock, sucking like Sam’s a damn lollipop or something, shifting and tilting his head like he’s greedy for more. Which he is.

As soon as Sam’s in control of his mental faculties, or at least mildly _more_ in control of them than he had been a few moments ago, he tightens his grip on Dee’s hair and _pulls_. Dee slides down his cock without complain, the wonderful heat of his puppy’s mouth enveloping him as he lets out these soft, gasping noises around the width of Sam’s cock. There’s a moment of pressure when the head of it brushes the back of Dee’s throat, and then Dee swallows around it with a groan that Sam echoes as he slips the rest of the way in, Dee’s nose pressed into the bottom of his stomach.

“Now, Cas,” he manages to gasp, and the near-wail that vibrates through his cock when Cas pushes into the shaking puppy beneath him reminds him why he loves Dee’s mouth so much.

Cas stays where he is for a long moment, hands braced on either side of Dee’s torso, legs stretched out behind him, back concave with his hips pressed up against Dee’s ass. Dee’s wet with lube from when Sam put his tail in, and wet with Sam’s come from where their Master fucked him earlier, and Cas is barely slick from licking himself, but it’s still a little rough, more friction than might be considered comfortable between them. They both love it.

When Dee starts whimpering desperately around Sam’s cock, and when the small egg in his ass presses against a particularly sweet spot that makes him hiss, Castiel begins rocking his hips backwards and forwards, small arches of his back letting his cock drag in and out of Dee’s already reddened hole. Somewhere in front of him, Sam lets out a strangled noise as Dee’s entire body slackens in response to the thrusts, and Castiel starts purring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” mumbles Sam, watching the way Cas is pushing into his puppy with slow, languid rolls of his hips – he can feel each thrust in the way Dee swallows around his cock in time to them, rocks a little further onto it before pulling away as Cas’s hips push and pull him across the floor. When the kitten dips his head and begins laving his tongue over one of Dee’s nipples, and Dee moans around Sam’s cock, Sam’s fairly sure he’s going to come there and then. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

It’s obvious Cas is trying to keep Dee from getting off – his thrusts are slow and gentle compared to normal, hardly more than gentle pushes, body arched carefully to prevent Dee from getting any friction on his cock. But Sam’s been inside Dee before, knows exactly how good his little puppy’s hole is, so he’s not surprised when Cas’s hips begin to speed up against his will, pushing faster and harder until Dee’s jolting limply with each thrust, his voice one long, continuous moan.

When Cas’s cock slips out of Dee’s hole after a particularly enthusiastic thrust, and the kitten just keeps thrusting, humping at the curve of Dee’s ass and the inside of his thigh in a blind attempt to get back inside the tight heat of the puppy’s body, Sam comes down Dee’s throat with a strangled cry. He pulls out, jerking himself to milk out the last few spurts of sticky-white come, and paints it across his puppy’s lips and freckles, gasping out the bright starbursts of pleasure behind his eyes. “Jesus, Jesus fuck, Dee- such a good little puppy, god, so good-”

It takes him maybe half a minute to come back down to earth, a useless curl of heat jolting through his stomach when he finally opens his eyes again and sees the white smear of his spunk across Dee’s cheeks, his puppy tongue lolling in a half-hearted attempt to lick at it. Cas’s voice has become a near-constant yowl, now, dick finally back inside Dee where it belongs, pumping into him with sharp, almost vicious ruts of his hips as he worries at Dee’s other nipple with his teeth and drags claws down his side.

Sam watches with a half-open mouth, and wishes he were a teenager again, because he really wants to be hard again, _now_ , and jerking off to the beautiful sight before him.

Cas comes first, with something that might be a scram, teeth sinking sharp and possessive into the skin just above Dee’s nipple – it’ll leave a mark for days, Sam’s sure, deep and purpling. Might have even broken the skin, he thinks, and shivers a little at the idea, a small groan escaping his throat as he watches Cas’s final few erratic thrusts as he fills Dee up with come, cock softening still buried inside the puppy.

It’s Sam’s groan, combined with the wet, spreading heat of Cas’s come inside of him, filling him, _breeding_ him, that makes Dee come. He’s almost silent when he comes, for all the noise he’d made before, hole spasming around Cas’s dick as his own twitches, spurting strings of come across his chest and stomach in white stripes. It’s only when he’s done, dick lying soft and spent against the inside of his thigh, Cas pulling slowly out of him with a low mewl of satisfaction, that Dee allows himself to whine softly in the back of his throat.

“Such a good boy,” whispers Sam, carding gentle fingers through the hair he was pulling on only minutes ago, and smiling down at Dee when his puppy looks up at him with utter love and devotion. “What a good little come-puppy, taking me and Cas so nicely.”

Dee whuffs out a small noise of happiness, before twisting around a little so he can see Cas where the squirming  kitten is still settled between his legs and barking happily. Cas makes a small, unimpressed noise, but smiles a little anyway, dipping his head to nuzzle at the inside of Dee’s thigh. Sam fishes the remote out of his pocket and, a little belatedly, turns the vibrations of the egg still nestled comfortably inside Cas off.

Cas sighs quietly in relief, some of the tension going out of him, and stops squirming quite so much. Instead, he starts licking the inside of Dee’s thigh gently, laving his tongue over the bite and claw marks there – not an apology, because they all know Dee loves those marks. It’s more like the icing on the cake.

It gets even better when Cas’s questing tongue finds Dee’s hole, puffy and come-slick and invitingly red.

The first time Cas did this, Dee had howled with shock and Sam’s jaw had dropped open so fast it had hit the floor. It wasn’t that him and Dee had never tried this, but Cas was just so… casual about it. Now, though, it’s common practice – every time Cas fucks Dee, he licks his come right back out of the fucked-out puppy’s hole as if it’s cream.

“What a good kitten,” murmurs Sam, cock making a weary attempt to get interested in the proceedings again, before giving up – for now, at least. “See? You can be a good boy, can’t you, Cas, just got to try.” Cas takes a break from licking into Dee to lift his head and send Sam a look that can only be described as withering – he is a cat, after all – but when Sam reaches over Dee to pet the mess of dark hair where it’s buried between his puppy’s legs, Cas starts purring softly. Dee makes a noise that is probably somewhere between a whine and a strangled groan, but doesn’t have the energy to buck his hips up into Cas’s mouth.

Sam just sits there, Dee’s head on his lap, one hand on each of his pets’ heads, petting them gently.

He knows what happens next. Cas will finish licking his come out of Dee’s ass, cleaning the traces of it from his lips with his tongue, and then the pair of them will collapse on top of each other in a heap in front of the fire and go to sleep. Sam will go get cleaned up, and tidy up the lounge, and wake Dee and Cas up about an hour later.

Dean and Castiel will take off their gear, other than the collars, put them in the ‘to be cleaned’ box Sam keeps under their bed for seeing to later (leather will need oiling, plugs for the tails will need cleaning and disinfecting, fur will need brushing), and head off to the shower. They’ll sit in there for what will seem like forever, cuddling and kissing and touching each other gently, running fingers over all the bruises and marks they’ve made on each other today, until the hot water runs cold.

At that point, Sam will bang on the door to the bathroom until they open it and let him in. He’ll be carrying fluffy towels, warm from the radiator, along with arnica cream and disinfectant – because while they like the marks, they also like them being temporary, not ready for the commitment of anything permanent yet – and will fuss over them and clean them up and dry them off. Castiel will probably end up curled up on Sam’s lap by the end of it, wrapped up in a bundle of towels and half-purring contentedly. Dean will tease him about being a cat even when they’re not in a scene.

Castiel will probably stick his tongue out at Dean for that.

Then they’ll go and pull on the warm, comfortable clothes Sam will have laid out for them whilst they were sleeping, and all three of them will head off to the Chinese takeaway place around the corner – Castiel and Dean still in their collars, because that’s just who they are, and they’re damn proud of it – and Sam’s chest will feel a little tight with happiness and love, and he’ll wonder to himself how on earth he managed to find two such perfect people.

Afterwards, they’ll all bundle up on the sofa with blankets and Chinese, and squabble over what to watch – Cas will vote medical dramas, Dean, sci-fi or action movies, Sam probably something historical or dramatic. They’ll squabble all through the movie or show, too, teasing and tickling and poking healing bruises, and Sam will eventually tug on both their collars and tell them to settle down and shush.

At which point, Dean and Castiel will probably push him off the sofa.

Eventually they’ll end up in bed together, a pile of warm, naked bodies. And maybe they’ll have sex, and maybe they won’t, but it won’t matter either way. They’ll fall asleep happy and sated and content, and they’ll probably get woken up in the middle of the night by Castiel’s constant wriggling and an elbow in somewhere soft and unguarded when he shifts in his sleep and ends up draped over them, or with his head to their feet, but they won’t mind.

And then tomorrow, they’ll get up and do it all over again.


End file.
